


"Wenn ich nur das wüsste..."

by kristallisatie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristallisatie/pseuds/kristallisatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Roderich is given a chance to go back in time and re-do one single event...</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Wenn ich nur das wüsste..."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on tumblr as an anon request. Historical explanation at the end.

A growing light shines through the windows. It has been too long since Roderich last heard the sound of footsteps and morning coffee preparation in his room at dawn. Struggling to force his eyes open, he finds himself clad in white nightshirt, lying down on his embroidered counterpanes with the crimson curtains half closed. Opening the curtains abruptly he peeked out; the maid was frightened. Anxiously performing a curtsey, the servant staggers, “Good morning, sir; you commanded me last night to wake you early in this hour, yet I have not…”

Roderich requires another second or two to comprehend his current situation. The wooden wall clock shows that it is almost half past six in the morning. Getting up to check the desk nearby, he finds a note dating May of 1717. Three hundred years later and this desk will still survive, after maintenance in the Imperial Furniture Museum, to be checked out by civil servants if they wish to have an old desk decorating their houses. No one dares to, though. So is the harpsichord in his chamber- it will no longer produce sound, bu it will be treated as a another piece of treasure to furnish one of the state rooms.

This room itself, on the other hand, will be remodeled soon to accommodate the numerous archduchesses in the future.

He just needs to remember for what reason would he dream of returning to this year.

"It is fine," Roderich assured the terrified servant; she must be new to the imperial household. "Please, tell me the date of today?"

The maid appears confused. “It is the thirteenth, sir.”

Then he remembers. Quickly dismissing the maid with hand gesture, which comes to her utmost terror, he examines around the white and gold room and finds the wardrobe where the garments are kept, putting on a white ruffled shirt, an ivory white waistcoat and breeches, topped with a collarless carmine coat embroidered in gold, stockings over his breeches. By the mirrors a wig is already there and powdered. To his own wonder he put it on as if he has done this for centuries, then leaving his chamber hurriedly.

The Imperial household anxiously waited outside the empress’s chamber. As he passed through the courtyard, it seemed that the townspeople were equally eager to peak through the walls and fences of Hofburg. Rather than properly speculating the sex of the newborn, the Maids of Honour that gathered around in fine gown pray piously that it will be a beautiful heir to the throne awaiting their welcome.

Roderich once shared this excitement with them centuries ago. His grieve heart did hope for a beautiful boy whom he would kneel for, to adorn him with the ancient crown jewels, to proclaim him as his archduke and his emperor. In a moment he will see these fine women adorning their faces with droplets of tears. They will claim it as tears of joy, a sincere gesture to welcome to presence of a little archduchess in the world. People will flock into the city, making music, and dancing in the streets to join the celebration of the birth of a new royal member, but their happiness will be more profound if the newborn is of a masculine nature - a replacement for the previous gift from Heaven - but not another political pawn to Austria’s infamous matrimonial tradition. 

A few of the ministers, who also woke up early to wait for the anticipated announcement, notice Roderich and lower their heads to acknowledge his presence. As he returns the nod, the chamber doors are opened by two wet nurses. As messenger runs out to notify the regiments standing by outside of the palace, ladies flock in to pay tribute to the new baby. 

The cannon by the walls are fired, signaling the beloved Pummerin bell of Stephansdom to ring majestically, in which the smaller bells in Peterskirche and Michaelerkirche soon follow, the heavenly sound thunderously resonating in the city. Citizens who were soundly asleep are now awakened by the great news, joining the crowds in Stephansplatz, the gentrifying marketplace of Graben, the soon-to-be Michaelerplatz, all roaring in rejoice. 

Nothing has changed; except him. To the surprise of the courtiers, Roderich remains standing outside of the room, listening quietly to the elation of his very own heart, entering only when the fine gentlemen and their spouses to recover from their excitement - or disappointment for the matter. 

They soon march to the cathedral. The distinction of the ministers’ true emotions become more evident after their audience with the emperor during the orchestral performance, when he appears to entertain the idea of fathering a crowned prince above all others. For the moment the little archduchess will be received with majestic honour, but the persuasion of Pragmatic Sanction will take place soon again. Roderich wants to refute his own sovereign; the desire of convincing his emperor with the idea of women not as inferior creatures overwhelm him. Unfortunately such idea is out of place; it is too advanced for the time being; the diplomatic world will start spreading rumours about the Austrian embodiment appearing lunatic over the lack of male heirs. 

Roderich dares not to do more than receiving felicitation with a courteous smile. 

More celebration is conducted in the starry evening when the Rittersaal of Hofburg is transformed into a temporal grand chapel to host the christening of the new-born archduchess. He does not have any responsibility in the ceremony as it is not prescribed in any laws or regulations - his only duty is to watch over the ceremony taking place. Nonetheless, walking alongside with his emperor, once again he becomes a central figure in the train of the stately procession, marching in pace with the drums and trumpets along the aisle of the candlelit Hall of the Knights. All the glory and dignity that are lost in him…

Surrounded by relics jewels as gifts from the high above, he sees the little archduchess being handed over by the Prince of Liechtenstein to the papal sponsors, and after christening, being carried back to the imperial apartments for the empress’s care. The festivities finally fades out for the day, for the hour of silence. Little does Roderich know that the attention of the court has fallen upon him, since he acts rather reticent despite a huge crowd surrounding him and, like the emperor, appearing not to be truly genuine for the happiness showing on his face. 

“She is Maria Theresia Walburga Amelia Christina, Roderich,” the modest mother speaks to Roderich with a weak smile. Poor queen - she has been devastated by the constant pressure and the ineffective court treatment for fertility. His majesty is on the side, taking care at his wife and his daughter. 

“So many names for one poor child, is it not?” Other names will not matter to Roderich, because it will be Theresia for him, his only empress whom her death did burst him into floods of tears for days. With her a new era comes, his darkest and his most golden epoch. He walks over and asks for the baby, and with two hands he receives the little girl, holding her up high while going down on his knees, kneeling in front of Theresia completely. 

The imperial couple gape; the emperor rises from his chair in shock. From their knowledge of the land of Europa, embodiment are found to be unable to bring themselves to their knees in front of anyone, unless they fully acknowledge to said person in front of them as their undisputed sovereign. 

Three centuries ago he was with everyone in forcing out laughs and sighing in private. Now beaming in delight and relief, Roderich looks up to his greatest monarch, then bringing her closer so he can kiss her forehand. The infant giggles in response when the imperial couple are left in silence. 

“Please pardon my insolent act, my sovereign,” Roderich hands the infant back to the mother, but remains kneeling, facing the emperor. “and grant me the power to act on my own. Just for once.”

Once again he is on a journey to Berlin - over six hundred kilometers on the autobahn, or over four hundred miles of forest trails on horse, bringing with him only a set of clean clothing, sword for protection, and more than enough coins to change into fresh horses every twenty eight miles. A typical trip takes about ten days to reach Berlin; he will be reckless this time to exhaust himself and all his horses by nonstop galloping, so he will reach the vicinity of Berlin in less than twenty hours. Taking a bath and changing into clean clothes in the coaching inn, he sets out again when the city grows dim at night, to create as little disturbance to the city as his visits might usually entail. 

Along the Spree River bank where moonlight shines upon the waters, he enters the city from the villages down the south, slowly riding up to the City Palace of the Brandenburg Electors. It is not yet a dynamic, metropolitan city full of night life, but a quiet, Protestant city where people retire to bed early at night. Indeed, a provincial backwater of a second class power in comparison to what will happen in a few centuries. Area south of Unter den Linden has not yet developed, with only a Simultaneum standing among some residential buildings. The beautiful Pleasure Garden just got turned into a sandy parade ground a few years ago, and Roderich can see some soldiers walking back towards the Schloss, possibly having finished their punishment for their laziness during their day drills. But the price of prosperity in later years will also entail the loss of Petrikirche, the complete disappearance of Old Berlin... 

Yes, they had been engaging in a private, secretive relationship since the end of the Second Northern War, in the name of Prussian loyalty towards the Emperor. But Roderich remembers how he would refuse to travel all the way to Berlin or Königsberg just to see his romantic interest. Berlin? Why would a majestic state like him grace himself upon the nearly-rural Berlin? As an alternative, he would make Gilbert travel, in the name of conducting foreign diplomacy, so that they could have some time alone aside from official court exchange, as Gilbert was ineligible to participate in any of the Imperial Diet sessions. To Leipzig, Dresden, Prague, Reichenberg, Karlsbad, Pilsen - these cities that were chosen as their rendezvous point for love, would ended up becoming their battleground for power and hatred. This capital too, had once been their battleground for matters that they should have prevented. Countless of lives lost, cities down to ruins, faultless Saxony and Bohemia reduced into tears for damages that they did not deserve to undertake…

Roderich is here in Berlin to end this incessant suffering that will plague Central Europe for years. It doesn’t surprise him when the guards look stunned at Roderich showing his Coat of Arm and requesting an entry and an audience with Gilbert in the audience chamber. The guard executed his order, rushing up as a messenger to ask for the embodiment of Prussia to deal with this rare guest - so rare would a high ranked Austrian travel from Vienna to bring news to Berlin. Roderich lets himself walking down the palace, fully knowing the layout of the building, where exactly will he expect to see a small crowd of royal household might emerge to view at him from a distance. 

A moment later, he can hear footsteps walking down the stairs quickly, the heels of the buckled shoes click-clacking against the marble floor. It is Gilbert appearing, barely with his coat buttoned correctly, staring wide-eyed at Roderich by the staircase, bursting out in anxiety,

“What brings you here? You seldom come to Berlin!” 

How young is this Gilbert - not yet in his full power, untrained in high politics, naive in handling love and reality, but high in ambition and achievement nonetheless. Just like a juvenile eagle who has yet learnt the art of dominance, deception, and cunningness, he speaks in the public as if they have known each other in familiar terms for half a millennium - well, that is not completely incorrect. 

That was why Roderich initially had his eyes on Gilbert, after all. Smiling back in amusement, Roderich takes a step back so he can walk down to talk to him in equal standing. They are also about the same height. 

“Do not fret, Gilbert. You have not displeased me nor the Empire. I do have my reasons, far from damaging our mutual well being. Do tell, has Konrad already retired to his chamber?” He responds with the same level of familiarity, as if the gossip soon emerging in the political circle is far from his concern. 

That does not seem to reassure the Prussian, for he is somewhat aware of the relationship between Konrad, the embodiment of Brandenburg, and Roderich of Austria. Rolling up his eyes, Gilbert replies hesitantly, “Konrad is in the room upstairs reading books before falling asleep. Why ask?”

“That is brilliant to hear,” Roderich remarks with a subtle smirk on his lips. “Above all, I would rather not to see Konrad intervening what shall happen between us. This is purely diplomatic, a foreign one if you may say, outside of imperial jurisdiction.”

Roderich remembers this should be the manner he would have spoken to Gilbert centuries ago. He can only hope that he is roleplaying himself accurately. As he is about to move on to his subject, a young child approaches them and tugs on Gilbert’s coat, with a servant chasing after him. It is the young Frederick, with a small drum and drumsticks in his other hand. 

“Hey, Fritzchen- go to bed! I don’t want your father to make you train yet!” Gilbert ruffles the young child’s hair roughly, his voice in distress. He has not fully accustomed to dealing with royal children yet. 

“Why not let him stay?” Roderich looks at little Frederick, who will soon be the cause of their distress and rivalry for years to come. “An aspiring drummer, is he not? What an adorable child. He is five years of age, am I correct?”

Gilbert nods, letting Roderich to reach his hand over to show affection for the young prince. As he bows down to pats on the boy, he looks back up to Gilbert, asking in a solemn tone. “I would like you to confirm your position on the Pragmatic Sanction that my Emperor has proposed to his majesty the Prussian King a few years ago.”

Bewilderment is overwhelming evident on Gilbert’s face. Soon it is replaced by anger, by irritation that the Austrian doesn’t seem to trust his pledge made to the emperor previously. “What are you talking about - of course I pledge my allegiance to the Emperor, and to guarantee the succession of the throne in case of female heirs!” The young man yells. 

“Are you certain about that?” Or he will be betrayed twenty three years later. 

“Yes, so sure about this that I will repeat how many times you want! Are you satisfied?”

After hearing this, Roderich cannot help but breaking into a grin. “Yes, I am immensely satisfied. Please listen to the following, then,” Stepping closer to Gilbert, he takes out an envelope with Habsburg royal seal and present it to the Prussian. 

“As the representation of the Habsburg Hereditary Lands, I hereby present you the following: guaranteed inheritance of Julich-Berg, and the fertile land of Silesia, which will provide you a less fragmented map of your kingdom. This is the Austrian dowry, and the pleasure is ours if this will be cordially accepted by the representation of the Kingdom in Prussia.”

Roderich is already pleased when dead silence falls upon the Prussian court, with the exception of young Frederick, not entirely comprehending the situation. The blank stare from Gilbert is rather precious. Taking his time to glance around the court to observe people’s reaction to his unexpected proposal, he finally returns his attention to Gilbert, extending his hand over with his palm facing up. Perhaps this is the most reckless deed he will ever have done - but he has always regretted and hating himself for not doing it. 

“As of yesterday, Her Majesty the Empress has given birth to a charming archduchess named Maria Theresia. As proxy of the heir apparent of Habsburg monarchy, I am here to ask you for your crown prince’s hand in marriage.”

And his hand is held.

———-

It takes a bit effort for Roderich to open his eyes. It is not the Baroque ceiling that he thought he would see - just a plain white one. Turning his head around to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand, it shows six thirty in the morning. The white blinds reflect unpleasant white light into the room. He is underneath a blanket, wearing a blue button-up pajamas, and no pants for sure. He wants to get up, but he feels restricted. 

Gilbert is still asleep and holding his hand. 

Snuggling back into the blanket, he frowns and laughs silently to himself. It’s this dream again, getting more vivid each time he thinks of it, to the point he wishes the dream to last longer, so he get to see the grand future of Gilbert as his knight, the prosperity of a Habsburg-Hohenzollern Union, a revitalised Holy Roman Empire, a peacekeeping Central European dual hegemon… 

Even if he has the opportunity to return to the past, to tell the eighteenth century self that it would be his best interest to marry Prussia, he will only be dismissed by his young prideful self as a lunatic clown for spreading rumours that a male heir is impossible, to be tried for advocating a dangerous agenda to advance Protestant interest…

If his modern mentality intervenes, this world will certainly have changed, into an unknown mess that Roderich can no longer predict its course.

But the neoclassical world was shaped that way - filled with religious bigots by modern standards, superstition, obsession with prestige and glory, fractions, cabinet wars. Given what was set during the time period, and given the same mindset - his eighteenth century self will repeatedly make the same choice that leads to what Gilbert and Roderich end up today. 

They are now covered with scars that are caused by mutual stabbing. But they are also wrapped in a blanket, lying with each other on bed peacefully on a warm Sunday morning. There is nothing wrong with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell, “going back in time” means that Roderich is exploring the 18th Century with a modern mindset. That is why it appears like he knows everything, what will go on, what will happen in the future, with a not-as-zealously-Catholic-as-he-should-have-been mindset. 
> 
> The Habsburg court was enormous (often up to 1000 persons), and it doesn’t help that they loved heavy furniture, AND moving all around Austria throughout the year. There was special department just to move all the furniture, and as the monarchy collapsed in 1918, the excess of furniture in the court were occasionally sold, or to be kept in the Hofmobiliendepot, the court furniture museum (used to be a depot) on Mariahilferstraße. You literally can find furniture described in this fic in the museum. And it is true that civil servants in Austria really can rent out these furniture for a modest fee if they want! For rooms in Hofburg, most of them change in style over time. Nowadays… all you can see (as public) would be Sisi style rooms. After all, Hofburg is the official residence of the Austrian president, so there are tons of rooms not open to the public, and not to our knowledge. 
> 
> The accounts and the details of the birth day of Maria Theresa is accurate to the hour! Around 7:30am, the cannon blasted and the bells rang in Vienna to announce the birth of Maria Theresia, and at 8pm there was a christening in the temporarily transformed Rittersaal, where notabilities walked in train to see the heir apparent in the hands of her sponsor, which is the Pope (represented by proxy). The sentiment as well - no one was really happy about the baby not having something in between the thighs. 
> 
> The famous Michaelerplatz wasn’t there yet! So is Karlsplatz and other Baroque stuff. I had fun researching on the difference of geography between 1717 and 2014. The reason why Graben is “gentrifying” is because it used to be a marketplace, but as time moves on, the usage as a marketplace was limited by the court, and it gradually developed into a promenade filled with expensive shoppes. 
> 
> The kneeling part is just a headcanon of mine. It is symbolic to me that an embodiment absolutely cannot make themselves kneel in front of someone they don’t recognise as their overlord. I use that to deal with succession disputes. 
> 
> Roderich is really maxing out here, but thanks to future experience he knows how to max up himself. It takes about 7 hours (in a mild traffic) to drive from Vienna to Berlin (~60mph/90kph). Assume similar distance back in 18th century. A horse galloping max is around 30mph/45kph. There usually were coaching inns around 7~10 miles apart. Mathematically he can get there in around 15 hours, but there should be down time, so it is calculated at the conservative number of 20 hours. 
> 
> While geography in Vienna remains relatively unchanged (already a metropolitan city by then), Berlin still had to go through years of development. It wasn’t until 1701 that the City Palace of Berlin, located at the modern Museum Island of Cölln, was finally merged into Berlin. The Simultaneum refers to the (now closed) Friedrichswerder Church. Old Berlin is what we know as the eastern part of Berlin, while the affluent Charlottenburg district and Unter Der Linden and Friedrichstrasse and etc, the current expensive landmark in Berlin, weren’t even a thing in 1717. Berliner Dom was there, but I couldn’t mention it because it was behind the palace. It is great that the City Palace (which was demolished during World War II….they are trying to rebuild it for some reason) is along the embankment of River Spree, so it is relatively easy to find. What we consider as “Old Berlin” today really isn’t the Berlin back in the 18th CE. Just a very tiny, almost town-ish city. 
> 
> Because Saxony and Bohemia were sandwiched in the middle, their cities and towns have become what most battles occurred between Prussia and Austria. Silesia was part of Bohemia. And for the longest time Prussia wanted to annex Saxony (which had been quite neutral), but it couldn’t happen due to Austrian intervention. 
> 
> It was known that Little Fritz had a thing for playing drums when he was three to four years of age. Later he got mandated by his father to do military training, but that’s something happening in the future. Also in the future, Fritz did mention his intention to marry Mary Theresia, provided that he didn’t have to change his faith. Maria Theresia’s father, too, expressed his wish for his daughter to marry Fritz, but because of religious reasons, and Theresia’s love for Franz Stephan, the marriage couldn’t work out. 
> 
> That is why religion remains as part of the themes here. Given Roderich’s overly religious mindset, the marriage wouldn’t have happened anyway. Thus, this is my Roderich muse’s biggest regret - if he really can regret about it.


End file.
